


Introduction

by eleuther



Series: Healing [6]
Category: Queen - Fandom
Genre: Bands, First Meetings, Fluff, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, a very light story for me, nothing graphic, very little tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:20:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22087798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eleuther/pseuds/eleuther
Summary: When Roger met his band mates.
Relationships: Brian May & Roger Taylor, Freddie Mercury & Roger Taylor, John Deacon & Roger Taylor
Series: Healing [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1490198
Comments: 4
Kudos: 58





	Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> OKAY SO. This is probably the lightest, most angst free fic you will ever get from me, and its not even 100% angst free. There is Roger being the Roger we all know and love in this series; subtly insecure but very good at hiding it.
> 
> This is tagged with implied/referenced child abuse, because it is hinted at a few times. There is nothing graphic, however I still warn those who may be triggered - there is, as always in this series, the possibility that this will upset you. Read with caution. 
> 
> I take full creative license on timelines and the exact when and how Roger met the rest of the band. This is not 100% accurate, but its my take and this is a fanfiction so who cares. 
> 
> Anywho, enjoy!!! I have at least three more fics planned for this series before I officially declare its end, or maybe just a pause.

**Imperial College 1968**

Roger rushed down the stairs of the hall, bag slung across his shoulders and drumsticks in hand. 

“Stupid, fucking professor,” he mumbled. “Shouldn’t be allowed to keep us late, for christs sake.”   
  


Imperial college was ten minutes by train and half an hour by foot from London Hospital Medical College; plenty of time on a normal day but his professor had felt it necessary to elongate their class by twenty minutes, not wanting to “interrupt the invigorating debate occurring.” 

Roger knew he could have just up and left, but he was heavily involved in said debate and didn’t dare leave the conversation without saying everything he wanted to.

Because of this stubbornness, he was nearly half an hour late for his audition for the band  _ Smile _ . He’d heard them a few times before; they weren’t bad but the chemistry didn’t seem  _ quite _ right. They were missing something - a good drummer.

So, when his roommate had seen the ad for a new drummer he’d jumped on it. And now he was late. He hoped they hadn’t left yet. 

Pushing the door open to the rented lecture hall, Roger saw a man with short, frizzy hair sitting in the front row. He had a book open on his lap - a textbook given the size - and he was alone. Roger felt his heart sink at what that could mean. 

_ “So sorry, but we already found someone. I stayed to let you know, just so you wouldn’t be left hanging. If you hadn’t been so late we could have heard you, but blah blah blah.” _

Roger sighed; this was his shot at actually doing something he enjoyed while studying the only thing that made his father even remotely proud. Not that he should care about what his father thinks of him, but whatever. 

“Are you here to audition?” 

His voice shocked Roger out of his thoughts. He watched as the man stood from his seat and - woah he was fucking tall. Roger was around average height, but this man was a giant. He was a lanky fellow, and incredibly thin, thinner he figured the man should be. Not that his height and weight were any of his business, but he was wary around those taller than him. He figured he’d still be able to beat him in a fight, if it ever came to that. 

“Well?” he asked again. 

“Oh, um. Yes, I am. If you’re still taking them, that is. I’m sorry for being so late, by the way.” Roger stuck out his hand. “My name is Roger Taylor.”

“Brian May.” He smiled and shook his head. “And yes, we are. Er, I am. Tim had to leave, something about a date.”   
  


“Ah,” Roger said. “Well, give me a few to get settled and then I’ll get started.”   
  


“Of course, take your time,” Brian replied. He sat back down and opened his textbook again.

Roger glanced at the drum kit on the landing. It wasn’t his, obviously, but it would have to do. He tapped at the snare drum and winced at the sound -  _ completely _ out of tune. He wasn’t sure how many people had used this today, but it sounded completely off. He was sure none of those drummers sounded good regardless of talent. 

He crouched down on the floor and began tuning, cringing internally at the thought of dragging this out and wasting any of Brian’s time. He didn’t seem annoyed about his being late, but he didn’t want to push it. 

“Um, what are you doing?” Brian asked, staring strangely at him.

“Tuning them. They’re incredibly out. It might take a few minutes,” Roger replied, hoping he wouldn’t be too mad. Brian just shrugged and went back to his book. 

Ten minutes later and he was ready to play, but unsure of how to get Brian’s attention. Should he say something? Just start playing and hope he isn’t too bored or wrapped into his book to ignore him? He wasn’t even sure what he should play, he realized; did he want covers of songs? He could do that, but he honestly had no idea about any of their songs. He’d only heard them a few times, how on earth was he to know how to play them? 

“Are you ready, Rog?” 

Roger’s head snapped up from where he’d been staring at his lap. He was pleased to see that he had Brian’s full attention - his book now in his bag and him now leaning against his knees. Roger nodded and gave a small smile, hoping his talent was worth the wait he’d put Brian through. 

He began with a few beats, getting a feel for the kit before launching into song. He was half way through a song before he noticed Brian had picked up his guitar and began playing too. He seemed focused on the strings and - woah, he’d never seen a guitar like that before. 

Roger almost missed the next beat with his distraction, but at this point it didn’t matter. There was no way he was letting this magic go. 

The smile Brian gave him when they finished was blinding. 

“You’re in! You’re more than in, Roger, that was amazing!” 

While the logical part of Roger’s brain knew this was a temporary fix, he let himself enjoy it. 

*

**Kensington Market 1969**

Roger let out a frustrated sigh as he made his way through town, still unsure of what to get his sister. He hadn’t seen her in almost two years now - he had no idea what she even liked anymore. But she had sent him something for his last birthday, so he knew he had to make the effort. 

He didn’t want to get any clothing - who knew how much she had grown - so jewelry was his best bet. But what if he picked something she didn’t like? She probably wouldn’t wear it much anyway, given the nature of his departure, but he knew the guilt would drive him insane if he didn’t send something.

Maybe he should just stick with a card.

Roger glanced at a stall to the right, eyes drawn to the fur coat hanging near the front. Mindlessly, he reached for it. He didn’t have enough for both a gift and something for himself, but he could dream for such a thing, right?

“Can I help you find something, darling?” 

Roger jumped at the voice. He hadn’t realized anyone was in the stall, though in hindsight he should have expected it. The stall couldn’t run itself.

“Oh, um,” he paused, not sure if the man would have anything. “Do you have anything that would be suitable for a gift for a younger sister?” 

“Hmm, I have some jewels you can take a look at if you’d like,” he replied. 

Roger nodded, suddenly unable to form words at the beauty of this man. He wasn’t traditionally what most would call beautiful, but pretty in an exotic way. He was quite obviously not from England, though his accent gave nothing away. It was almost perfect, except for the small lilt of a foreign language he couldn’t place. He forced himself to stop staring; he was likely making the man uncomfortable.

Moving farther into the stall, Roger saw a woman sitting in the corner, a cigarette in hand. The room was filled with smoke, and darker than out front. To his left, a table full of fancy jewelry. He had no idea how the two had acquired the selection, and found that he didn’t really want to. 

Looking through the selection, he didn’t see much he felt his sister would like. Most were vibrant and flashy - the complete opposite of his sister. Or maybe it wasn’t. He really had no idea. 

“See anything she’d like?”

Roger turned to look at the man. “Honestly? I have no idea. She was never the most colorful person, but I also haven’t seen her in almost two years. I have no idea what she likes anymore.”

The man looked at him curiously. “If you don’t mind me asking, why are you even getting her anything? What’s the point if you haven’t seen her?”

“Because she got me something,” he replied. “And it’s not her fault that I’ve been avoiding going home.”

The man said nothing to that. The girl still sat in the corner, silently smoking a fresh cig.

Roger glanced around one more time, still unsure of the stall but also tired of looking. What is the point, really? 

“How about this?” The man pulled a necklace off of his neck and held it out. “It’s simple, but still has a pop of color.”

Roger looked at it - a small, silver pendant doused with bright blues and purples in the middle, resting on a silver chain. 

“But that’s yours. I can’t take that,” Roger said. 

“Oh please, darling. Most of the stuff in this stall was mine at one point. I’ll sell it eventually anyway, so why not now?”

Roger was still unsure. Maybe he would get rid of it eventually, but he was enjoying it now. But he was looking expectantly at Roger, and he really needed a gift. 

With a sigh, he took it from his hand. “How much for it?” 

The man waved him off, but Roger shook his head. “Seriously, mate, how much? I’m not taking it for free.” It just felt wrong.

The man and the woman glanced at each other.

“Fine. But you have to take that coat you were looking at earlier, too.”

Roger glanced at the coat. “Why? It’s nice, but I definitely don’t have enough for the two.”

“That’s why I’m giving it to you. It’s a beautiful coat that would look lovely on you, so take it.” 

He tried to protest, but also felt guilty for taking up so much of their time. With a sigh, he said, “Alright. How much for the two?”

“Ten pounds.”   
  


Roger bit his lip, still feeling guilty. “Alright.”

He pulled the money from his pocket and quickly handed it to him. The man smiled and nodded, giving him a thank you. 

“Thank you, really. I’ll, um, see you around?” He cringed internally, because he really didn’t think he would be, but it had been said. Nothing to do about it now. 

“I’m sure you will.” The man smiled and then started walking to the front. He followed quickly.

“Here’s your jacket,” he said, handing Roger the coat. 

“Oh, really. I don’t need it, but I appreciate -”

“Nonsense, dear, just take it please. Your mouth is saying one thing, but your eyes say another.” At Roger’s guilty look, he said, “If you’re that worried, give me your name for the coat.”

“Sorry?”

“That’ll be my price. Your name, for the coat.”   
  


“Oh, um, okay,” he said. “Roger, Roger Taylor.”

The man looked at him curiously, a small smile peeking at the corner of his lips. He hadn’t noticed, but the man seemed to make an effort in hiding his smile.

“Alright then, Roger.” He handed him the jacket, an almost knowing look in his eyes.

“Thank you so much,” Roger said. “You have no idea how good it feels to have this gift taken care of.”

He chuckled in response. Roger gave another smile in thanks, before heading out of the stall.

“Well?” The man called. “Don’t you want to know my name?” 

Roger paused and looked back. “Oh, um sure.”

“It’s Freddie,” he said. “Freddie Bulsara.” 

Roger nodded. “It’s nice to meet you, Freddie.”

As he walked away, he was sure that wasn’t the last he’d seen of Freddie Bulsara.

*

**Imperial College 1971**

“I’m bored,” Roger said. 

Freddie sighed. “Me too, dear, but we need to find a bassist. We’ll never make it without one, and you know it.”

“I know!” he exclaimed. “But I also wanna go home, or maybe to a club.”

“There’s only a few people left, Rog,” Brian said. “C’mon, remember when you auditioned and I waited even though you were late?”

Roger hated when Brian threw that in his face, but he knew he was right. Who knows where he would be if Brian didn’t stay for his audition. 

“Alright, next! Who’s next out there? We haven’t got all day!”

“Oh, really Rog, you’ll scare them all away with that attitude.”

“Well, tell them to hurry! I’m getting’ a headache.”

Freddie rubbed his arm lightly in response as the next bassist came in.

“Hello,” the man - more like a kid, really, he couldn’t be more than 18 - said. He had a soft smile on his face, but they could all see the nerves in his eyes. 

“Hello dear,” Freddie said. “What’s your name?”

“John, John Deacon,” he replied. 

“Well John Deacon, play us something. Anything you’d like, though if you know any of ours it's a plus.” Freddie winked, though given the flash of fear in John’s eyes he didn’t pick up on the joke.

“You don’t have to know any of our songs,” Brian said, shooting Freddie a dirty look. “But if you do know any, feel free to play them.”

John nodded and gave another weak smile. He checked his bass to see if it was properly tuned, before launching into some Zeppelin. 

Admittedly, he was fantastic. But Roger was worried about his age. Yes, he’d only been nineteen when he auditioned for Smile, but they had been playing small pubs every couple of weekends at the start. Queen was bigger than Smile at the start, and the only reason they hadn’t sold out around London was because they needed a bassist.

The three watched with rapt attention, knowing that despite their reservations, this was the one. 

As he finished one song and started to launch into the next, Roger suddenly stood and sat at his drum kit. John had paused to watch him move, but started again at his encouraging nod. The chemistry was automatic; Brian and Freddie watched in awe, knowing that their drummer was the key to finding the right bassist. If they didn’t sound right together, it wasn’t happening.

Roger was nearly vibrating as they played. John was fabulous, and took every one of his cues and changes in stride. He was the one, he had to be.

When they stopped both John and Roger were flushed and sweating, and their grins couldn’t have been wider. He was reminded of his own audition, suddenly, and the thrill he felt when he played with Brian for the first time. 

Freddie, Brian, and Roger looked at each other, not an ounce of hesitation on their faces. John glanced between the three of them curiously, his grin turning nervous at their silence.

There was a nod from each of them. 

“John?” Freddie said. “Welcome to the band, darling.” 

**Author's Note:**

> pls leave comments and kudos I need validation!!!


End file.
